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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25516657">Azloc-III</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/imastrangeone98/pseuds/imastrangeone98'>imastrangeone98</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Past (The Mandalorian) [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Mandalorian (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Gen, brief descriptions of violence, have fun XD, more Tumblr archiving, nothing much here tbh</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 06:29:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,140</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25516657</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/imastrangeone98/pseuds/imastrangeone98</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Ask him about the job on Azloc-III."</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Original Female Character(s), The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Past (The Mandalorian) [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1843624</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>49</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Azloc-III</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Warning: definitely not canon events. it's just my imagination taking over what I thought might have happened</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"<em>We're pinned down!</em>"</p>
<p>Mando could hear Qin's hoarse voice from the communicator, but he couldn't find the physical strength to get up.</p>
<p>"<em>Mando!</em>" Ran's voice crackled with frequency. "<em>Where you at, buddy?!</em>"</p>
<p>His voice wouldn't work. His entire body ached. His armor was just too heavy.</p>
<p>He felt exhausted.</p>
<p>The job was supposed to be a simple snatch-and-grab. There was a noble's son from Birren who had gotten himself involved with the wrong crowd, and ran off to some unknown planet, never to be seen again by his concerned parents.</p>
<p>It was supposed to be easy.</p>
<p>But <em>of course</em> he had to have heavy protection from his gang friends. <em>Of course</em> he would have the best security Inner Rim credits could buy. Of kriffing <em>course</em> he would.</p>
<p>Which now led to their current situation. Separated by multiple traps, and assaulted by heavy artillery on nearly all sides.</p>
<p>He knew he had ended up closer to the ship than the others, but had no idea where said others were.</p>
<p>"Qin! Ran! Xi'an!" he hissed into his communicator. "See if you can make it back to the ship!"</p>
<p>"<em>My sister and I are trapped in the canyon,</em>" the male Twi'lek replied. "<em>There's no way out unless we climb. And by then, we're sitting ducks!</em>"</p>
<p>"<em>The canyon?</em>" Ran responded. "<em>I think I'm close by. I got some pulleys we could use to pull you guys up, but I'll need time.</em>"</p>
<p>The cliff... </p>
<p>Mando took a quick look at his surroundings.</p>
<p>"I'll buy you some time. Move quickly."</p>
<p>"<em>Got it.</em>"</p>
<p>He shut off his communicator and gripped his blaster, yet he still waited. For what, he didn't know. But his body refused to move.</p>
<p>Like he was waiting for something.</p>
<p>He reached for his communicator once again, but rather than reaching out to his teammates, he connected back to the Razor Crest. "Baize. Can you hear me?"</p>
<p>"<em>Mando? What's going on?</em>"</p>
<p>"I'm pinned down. The others are trapped somewhere." He paused for a second at the brief blaster fire near the large ice block he was pressed against. "I need help."</p>
<p>There was a solid second of silence before she replied, "Where are you?"</p>
<p>"Near the ship. There's a glacier nearby, with the large spike in the middle. I'm hiding behind it; there's heavy fire."</p>
<p>"On my way." Her voice cut off, and he was left alone.</p>
<p>More blaster fire. On occasion, he would fire off shots of his own, or peer out of the corner, pulse rifle at the ready, and send someone to a dusty end. But still, it was never-ending. </p>
<p>"Baize!" he whispered harshly into the communicator. "Where are you?"</p>
<p>No response.</p>
<p>"Baize!"</p>
<p>No response.</p>
<p>Mando cursed under his breath. Was she out of range? Did she forget her communicator? Or was she shot down?</p>
<p>Whatever the case, he had to fend for himself.</p>
<p>Blaster in hand, he was about to jump out of his hiding niche when his communicator crackled to life. "<em>Mando.</em>"</p>
<p>"Baize?"</p>
<p>"<em>Stay low</em>."</p>
<p>He pressed himself against the wall and waited.</p>
<p>It didn't take long before he heard the screaming. And he couldn't resist the urge to look behind him.</p>
<p>And before his eyes, with two blasters in her hands and a cold, robotic look in her eyes, was Kyla.</p>
<p>She moved quickly, firing with insane precision from almost every direction imaginable. Thugs fell with every shot.</p>
<p>Something about her fighting style tugged at him...</p>
<p>But he didn't pay much attention in the end, focusing instead that she was running towards him.</p>
<p>"Mando!" she called, holstering her blasters and rushing to his side. "Are you hurt? Can you move?"</p>
<p>"I'm fine." He gripped her outstretched hand, and was pulled to his feet.</p>
<p>"Where are the others?' she asked, looking around.</p>
<p><strike>Why was she so concerned for people who hardly cared about her?</strike> "Somewhere."</p>
<p>Her hair whipped around in the wind. He stared at it. "We need to find them! Do you know where you last saw them?"</p>
<p>
  <em>They could hide. Rid themselves of the others and hide out somewhere.</em>
</p>
<p>"Baize."</p>
<p>"The coms on the Crest were wacky, but I managed to hear something about a canyon-"</p>
<p>"Kyla."</p>
<p>Finally, she stopped rambling. "Yes?"</p>
<p>"Do you trust me?"</p>
<p>For a brief second, she looked hesitant. <strike>He couldn't blame her.</strike> Then her eyes cleared. "Of course."</p>
<p>"Then follow. And whatever happens, keep your head down." With that, he sprinted down the glacier towards the ship, Kyla silently trialing behind him.</p>
<p>"Ran!" he hissed into the communicator. "I'm surrounded! I can't make it to the canyon."</p>
<p>Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Kyla opening her mouth, then promptly closing it. Good.</p>
<p>"<em>Well, shit!</em>" he muttered. "<em>Alright! I'll deal with it.</em>"</p>
<p>Mando didn't press further. They either survived, or they died. <strike>He hoped for the latter</strike>. He ripped off his communicator, snapped it in half, and buried it in the snow for good measure.</p>
<p>By the time they reached the ship, she looked like she was about to burst from confusion. He couldn't bring himself to care, though. He threw himself at the controls, the engines began to roar, and the ship flew off into the atmosphere.</p>
<p>He allowed himself to relax only when the ship was put in hyperdrive. And by then, Kyla had made her way to the cockpit and sat at the left seat behind him.</p>
<p>"Mando?"</p>
<p>He hummed.</p>
<p>"Why did we leave them behind?"</p>
<p>
  <strike>Because they're assholes. Because they'd do anything for a quick credit. Because <em>they don't care about you.</em></strike>
</p>
<p>"They're mercenaries. They'll take care of themselves."</p>
<p>"Yes, but..." Her voice dimmed to a whisper. "I thought they were your friends...?"</p>
<p>"Friendship hardly matters when it comes to survival." He turned around to look at her. "Survival is strength. That's all that matters."</p>
<p>She looked down. "Then... what about me?"</p>
<p>He tilted his head.</p>
<p>"Are we friends?"</p>
<p>The question threw him.</p>
<p>What was she to him?</p>
<p>She was someone he threw away his old allies for. She was someone he would no doubt have trouble sacrificing in the future.</p>
<p>But was she someone he could abandon the Creed for? Was she someone he could tell his past to? <strike>Was she someone he could share his life with?</strike></p>
<p>He didn't know. He remained silent.</p>
<p>"Oh." Her voice was small. And sad. "I see." She stood up. "I'll... clean out the cargo hold, then."</p>
<p>Mando was lost. Did she think they weren't... allies? Maybe not friends, but at the very least, acquaintances?</p>
<p>Before he could stop himself, his gloved hand reached out and brushed the skin below her chin.</p>
<p>She froze, her eyes meeting his visor. Bit by bit, the tension in her shoulders eased.</p>
<p>With one indulgent scratch, he finally managed to turn away, focusing back on the controls.</p>
<p>His silence and his touch were his answers.</p>
<p>
  <em>We're not friends... but we can be.</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>check out my Tumblr if interested: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/imastrangeone98   there's more stuff on there than I can post here for the moment</p></blockquote></div></div>
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